


The School Remembers

by AryaNoName (merrymegtargaryen)



Series: Westeros Academy [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, westeros academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/AryaNoName
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Stark girls get their overdue revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The School Remembers

**Author's Note:**

> Gift fic for reaching 500 followers. Prompted by the lovely imagineagreatadventure.

Sansa winced as the thick, creamy substance oozed its way over her head, down her neck and into her uniform.

"What’s the matter, Sansa? Don’t you like milkshakes?" Joffrey taunted.

She didn’t say anything; just waited for him to have his laugh and then leave her alone.

"Why aren’t you saying anything?" he demanded.

"Maybe she’s brain-freezed," Lancel joked.

Sansa stared at her shoes as strawberry milkshake dripped onto the floor.

"Or she’s just too stupid," scoffed Joffrey. "Come on, let’s go to class.”

The blond boys sauntered off, leaving Sansa in a puddle. She wiped at the milkshake threatening to drip into her eyes and started walking to her dorm. Milkshake rolled off her and left her feeling sticky and disgusting. The late bell clanged and a few last-minute stragglers dashed to their classrooms, too busy to notice the strawberry milkshake monstrosity. She knew the absence would count against her, but she was too embarrassed to go to class and ask to leave. She would explain it to her father and he would tell her teachers to excuse her.

It wasn’t the first time she’d had to miss class because of Joffrey, nor would it be the last. He liked to surprise her in the halls every so often with his Lannister cousins or the Freys backing him up. Sansa always waited patiently for it to end; Joffrey wanted her to struggle or fight back or say something, but she never did. It was a small victory.

Sansa began peeling off her clothes the minute she unlocked the door. She took a long, hot shower and scrubbed at her hair and her skin; even when the milkshake was long gone down the drain, she scrubbed until her skin was raw. She wrapped herself in her comfiest pajamas and curled up in bed.

The door banged open an hour later. 

“I AM GOING TO KILL JOFFREY,” Arya Stark howled, tearing off a banana peel and hurling it into the trashcan. 

“What did he do?” Sansa asked, sitting up.

“He got Big Walder and Little Walder to throw me in the dumpster!” Arya was indeed grimier than usual. Something registered with her. “Why are you in bed?”

“Joffrey poured a milkshake on me,” Sansa said miserably.

Arya looked even angrier than before. “Why won’t he leave you alone? He’s the one who dumped you!”

“He knows I won’t put up a fight.” Sansa wrapped her arms around her knees. “I’m an easy target.”

“Why won’t you put up a fight?” Arya wanted to know. “He’s not your boyfriend anymore, you don’t owe him anything.”

“It’s not worth it,” Sansa insisted hollowly. “Besides, he’d just get mad.”

“So?” Arya swatted a straw wrapper out of her hair. “Even if he gets pissy, wouldn’t it be worth it to see him suffer for once? Just one time where Joffrey felt like shit. Because I’d let the Freys throw me into the dumpster every day if I could remember that one time.”

“You would not,” Sansa scoffed.

“Well, no,” conceded Arya. “But you get what I mean.”

Sansa did. Every moment of unhappiness for Joffrey was a hundred moments of happiness for Sansa. He would be furious if she ever stood up to him…and yet…

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

Arya smirked. “Let me take a shower and I’ll tell you.”

.

Their plan relied heavily on the staff of Westeros Academy.

Luckily for the Stark girls, every single member of the staff hated Joffrey Baratheon.

“Now, girls, this isn’t strictly legal,” Petyr Baelish, the school’s secretary, mock-scolded. “So if anyone finds out I let you into the computers…”

“We’ll say we hacked our way in and you had nothing to do with it,” Arya said smoothly. “We got this, Littlefinger.”

“I’m sure you do.” And with one of those creepy-overly-friendly-and-just-the-slightest-bit-sexual-predator smiles, he returned to the main office.

Sansa stared at the computer screen, her fingers trembling over the keys. “This is wrong…not just on a moral level, I mean, but we could actually get in serious trouble for this…”

“Go on, Sansa!” Arya said impatiently. “Think how many times that douchecanoe copied your homework and made you help him cheat on his tests. Those grades are your hard work. And besides, it’s not like he’ll find out. He thinks you’re too stupid to do anything like this.”

Sansa felt something within her snap. “‘Dear Mr. Baratheon,’” she said in a professional voice, deleting his straight As. “‘We are sorry to inform you that you did not make the dean’s list this semester. We recommend seeking out tutelage.’” 

“D is for douchecanoe,” sang Arya.

.

It was less than a week later that Arya, on her way back from her weekly anger therapy session with the school guidance counselor, Melisandre, saw Cersei Lannister-Baratheon gliding to the office in a majestic fury. Arya followed her swift as a deer, quiet as a shadow, and pressed her ear to the office door moments after the woman had slammed it.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN JOFFREY’S GPA IS IN DANGER?!” she shrieked. 

“Mrs. Baratheon, perhaps if Joffrey invested in a tutor—”

“ARE YOU SUGGESTING MY SON IS INCOMPETENT?!”

Arya tore down the hallway, swift as a snake, to tell Sansa the news.

.

Changing Joffrey’s grades was only the tip of the iceberg.

His instructors had somehow all agreed that Joffrey’s grades were accurate, and agreed on a negotiation with Cersei. Joffrey maintained a B-C average and yelled at Lancel for giving him the wrong answers on tests, and then everything was back to normal.

That wasn’t good enough for the Stark girls.

“It has to be something really big, something in his face,” said Sansa, pacing up and down her room. “We need to make him uncomfortable.”

“We could sneak into his room when he’s not there and trash the place,” suggested Arya. “It’s not like he has a roommate we’d be bothering.”

Joffrey had a whole dorm room to himself—his mother insisted he needed his personal space and his grandfather didn’t mind pulling a few strings to see it done. 

“He locks the door when he leaves,” Sansa reminded her. 

Arya’s lips curled into a smirk. “I know a way around that.”

.

It was a good thing the staff hated Joffrey almost as much as the Stark girls, or else their plan never would have succeeded. 

Renly Baratheon put Joffrey in detention after catching him kicking poor Samwell Tarly. Joffrey gave his uncle an earful about what his grandfather would say, but the T.A. merely put in his earbuds and turned the volume all the way up.

It was Davos Seaworth who let them into Joffrey’s dorm room; the janitor had always liked Arya and hated Joffrey more than most of the staff. 

When Joffrey returned from detention, his dorm room was in shambles. His drawers had been flung open, their contents strewn all over the floor. His trophies were broken, his sheets twisted into the shape of a noose and hanging from the ceiling.

And scrawled in red lipstick on his mirror were the words The School Remembers.

.

No one ever found out who did it, and frankly, none of the staff members cared enough to put effort into finding out. Joffrey and his mother complained, but finally Tywin had to tell them to please stop carrying on, there were three hundred other students in the school okay thank you.

In fact, the three hundred other students in the school couldn’t stop talking about it. No one liked Joffrey but everyone pretended to; it was easier than letting the Lannisters and the Freys beat them into submission. The idea that anyone could scare Joffrey Baratheon gave the students a new sense of hope.

It was, to Arya’s great surprise and pride, Sansa who suggested the third and final act of rebellion.

“It won’t be easy,” said the older Stark. “We’ll need help.”

Arya smirked. “That won’t be a problem. Leave it to me, sister dear.”

.

It was a good thing Sansa and Arya were friends with the Hound, or else they never would’ve gotten away with it. 

In the middle of the night, several figures all in black scurried all over campus. The Hound turned his back, and when the light of dawn broke, he saw what they had done and he laughed. 

.

Joffrey was on his way to the cafeteria when the three Tyrell girls burst into laughter behind him. He turned around to glare at the brats and saw that they were laughing at him.  
“Why are you laughing?” he demanded.

Alla’s eyes went wide. “Oh, n-no reason.”

“You’re laughing at something,” he insisted.

Elinor’s lips twitched. “Have you been outside today?”

Megga burst into a peal of laughter and quickly clapped a hand over her mouth.

Joffrey stormed outside, determined to see what all the fuss was about. A crowd was gathered in front of the main building, people pointing and laughing.

When he saw what they were laughing at, he nearly shit his pants.

Posters of his face were plastered everywhere, and underneath, in large print, were the words “INCEST IS A SERIOUS PROBLEM. IF YOU’RE RELATED, DON’T HAVE RELATIONS!” 

And that wasn’t even the worst part.

His car was parked on top of the building, and underneath, a huge white sheet hung on the wall. Scrawled in familiar red handwriting were the words The School Remembers.

“There he is!” Hot Pie shouted. Someone—he thought it was his bastard half-brother, Gendry—started to slow clap. Everyone joined in until they were laughing and jeering at him. Him, Joffrey Baratheon.

He really did shit his pants then. 

Sansa and Arya laughed until their stomachs hurt.


End file.
